


Invasive

by Disasteriffic_Kaz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood and Torture, Comfort, Gen, Horror, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 20:51:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1563635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Disasteriffic_Kaz/pseuds/Disasteriffic_Kaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A get-out-of-death free card sounds good, until it’s not. Sam finds reason to truly hate Lucifer’s promise to bring him back if he dies. post 5x04 “The End” hurt/limp!Sam comfort/awesome!Dean/Cas</p>
            </blockquote>





	Invasive

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: Sometimes all it takes is a single word to spark an entire story. The word ‘invasive’ popped into my head, no particular reason, and then this story quickly formed and demanded to be written. :D Gratuitous torture of Sam is contained herein. It will be graphic. It may even be disturbing. You are warned.  
> I’ll get back to the reward stories now. :D Just had to get this one out of my head.
> 
> Beta'd by the always awesome JaniceC678 :D– Friend and Muse's co-conspirator.
> 
> **Follow me on Facebook as "Disasteriffic Kaz" for frequent fic updates or just to chat!  
> ~Reviews are Love~

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Dean leaned back from the computer screen and scrubbed at his eyes until he saw spots of colored light and blew out a breath. He craned his head around and spotted his brother across the library with his nose still buried in a book and he smirked. The little redheaded woman was still where she’d been the last time Dean looked, sidled up no more than a foot away from his brother and staring longingly at Sam like he was the last steak on the menu. Dean tugged his phone out of his pocket and shot off a hasty text to Sam with a chuckle.

Sam jumped when his phone beeped in his pocket and dug it out. He frowned, seeing Dean’s name and looked over at his brother but Dean had his back to him pretending to be engrossed in the computer. He rolled his eyes and opened the phone to read the text.

_Strawberry Shortcake wants to climb u dude. Give her some sugar._

Sam looked up with a frown and then saw the short woman beside him. As he looked, her eyes ducked away behind a book with a bright flush to her cheeks. Sam felt a blush creep up his own cheeks and texted his brother back before moving away with his book.

Dean laughed softly and pulled his phone out when it went off as he glanced over his shoulder. Sam was moving away and the redhead was moving with him.

Dean laughed again and put his phone up, then ran his hands through his hair. “This case sucks,” he said softly and started scrolling through news reports again. He took his phone back out when his stomach growled and shot off another text to Sam telling him to go find food before bumping uglies with the cute girl. He grinned and waited for Sam’s bad-tempered reply. Teasing his little brother was helping him to find that common ground they used to have before demons, angels, hell, and setting Lucifer free. He wasn’t sure how long it was going to take for the trust to come back. A while, he thought, but in the meantime, he needed to find some old, comfortable ground to stand on with him. He frowned at the screen and felt the familiar curl of anger and betrayal that came with thoughts of Sam lately and tried to push it back down. He’d had an abject lesson on where that path would lead them, courtesy of Zachariah, and it was nowhere he wanted them to go.

Dean looked down at his phone and wondered what was taking Sam so long to answer back. He looked back out into the library and frowned harder when he saw no sign of his little brother. He stood and moved out for a better look still not seeing him anywhere. He texted Sam again asking where he was. He listened for the chirp of Sam’s text alert and tried to ignore the bad feeling when he didn’t hear it.

“Sam?” Dean called and smiled at the librarian who gave him a scandalized look. He ignored her and moved in the direction he’d seen Sam go. He checked down each aisle with no sign of him and texted him again. Irritation warred with concern as he searched the whole of the library and didn’t find him. “This place isn’t that damn big. Sam!” He yelled it this time and flicked off the chorus of ‘shhh’s that came from the other patrons. He went to the desk and slapped a hand down. “Did you see where my brother went? The really tall guy with the floppy, dark hair.”

“You need to keep your voice down, sir. This is a library.”

Dean scowled at the woman and stalked away for the entrance. He hurried outside and checked the Impala, hoping Sam had decided to sit outside and wait for him, but he wasn’t there either. “Sammy!” Dean yelled and felt his heart begin to pound as the fear won out. “What the hell?” He stood there feeling lost beside their car and looked down at his silent phone. “Where the hell are you?”

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Sam moaned softly and rolled his aching head. “Dean?” he said softly and blinked gritty eyes open in confusion. “Wha’… where… Dean?” He jerked in surprise as he realized that he was on his back on a floor and his arms and legs were tied down to stakes embedded in the floor, spread eagle. Not good. “Wha’s goin’ on?” Sam tugged at the ropes binding him to no avail. They were tight enough that he was worried about circulation. The last thing he remembered was being in the library being irritated at his brother. There had been a girl, he thought and then dizziness and darkness. He felt a strange sort of aching pain in the back of his neck and jerked his head around when he heard a sound to his left.

“Hello?” Sam called and blinked his eyes to clear his vision. The room was big, wherever he was. The high, paneled ceiling above him echoed his voice, and a warm yellow light glowed from two sconces in a wall to his right. “Who’s there? Let me go!”

“Can’t do that.” A woman’s voice came softly as she walked into view.

Sam scowled as he looked up at her. “I… you were in the library. You were watching me.” It was the short, red-headed woman Dean had been teasing him about. “What are you doing? How did I get here?”

“You’re very heavy,” she whispered and knelt beside his chest. She pushed a lock of red hair out of her face and smiled at him. She reached out and brushed a hand over the back of his neck. “I think I gave you a little too much. I tried to guess for your size, you see, but you’re just so big.”

She had drugged him, Sam realized and shivered. “Please. You need to let me go.”

She shook her head. “I can’t do that. You’ve been given to me.”

“What?” Sam shook his own head. “No. No, let me go, please. Whatever you think is going on…”

“God gave you to me. He gives all my toys to me.” She smiled and it was an unnerving, fervent sort of smile.

“I’m not a toy,” Sam said angrily and swallowed back the shiver of fear at her words. “Let me go now. You don’t want my brother to find you. You really don’t.”

She smiled. “No one will find you until I’m ready… until you’re done.” She feathered her fingers over his cheek and smiled again when he jerked his head away.

“Don’t.” Sam pulled strongly at the ropes but there was no give in them. “Look, my name is Sam, alright? Whatever you’ve done, it’s… I won’t tell anyone, ok? Just let me go.” He had a feeling that things were about to go very badly if he couldn’t get himself out of this. Somehow, this small woman had drugged him and gotten him out of the library under the nose of his big brother and dimly, he felt a pang of hurt about it. There was a time when Dean’s over-protective streak was so deep and so wide that Sam couldn’t sneeze without being smothered. Freeing Lucifer and starting the apocalypse, drinking demon blood and all the lies had apparently damaged that innate sense of Dean’s far worse than Sam had even thought.

“Sam.” She smiled softly. “I’m Claire. I don’t usually know my toy’s names. That’s nice, Sam. Sam.”

“Claire, please…” Sam’s voice caught in his throat when she reached behind her back and brought out a slim, curved knife. “No. Don’t.”

“Shh. I need to get started, Sam.” Claire leaned down and placed a gentle kiss between his eyes. “You just stay still.”

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

“Bobby, I don’t fuckin’ know!” Dean said angrily and worked to get his voice back under control. “He’s just gone, alright? The damn library’s security cameras were all dummies. Fuckin’ useless.”

“Take it easy, son,” Bobby said and tried to soothe him. He cursed his paralyzed legs that kept him from running right out to go help. He blew out a breath and scrubbed a hand over his face. “There has to be something. He can’t have just up and vanished. You know that.”

“I’ve been all over the damn place. There’s nothing.” Dean kicked the side of Sam’s empty bed and made himself look away from it. His little brother had been missing for over four hours now and every second was beginning to vibrate along his nerves and made him want to scream. “Bobby, I got nothin’. You don’t think… could Lucifer have found him?”

“No.” Bobby said adamantly. “No way. If that’d happened, your pocket angel’d be there already to tell you about it. You know that.”

“Cas. Bobby, I’ll call you back.” Dean hung up on Bobby and quickly dialed the angel, kicking himself for not doing it sooner. He waited anxiously for the angel of the Lord to pick up. “Cas. I need you. Right now, man.” Dean rattled off the motel’s name and room number and wasn’t surprised when there was a knock at the door a moment later. He snapped the phone closed and stalked over, pulling it open. “Get in here.”

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel greeted in his gruff voice as he entered the room. He looked around and frowned. “Where is Sam?”

“That’s why I need you. Sam’s vanished.” Dean closed the door hard and paced back across the room.

“Define ‘vanished’.” Castiel watched the elder Winchester’s restless movements and knew that something bad had happened.

“We were at the local library and he just fuckin’ disappeared, ok?” Dean scrubbed his hands through his hair and made himself stand still. “One minute he was there, and the next he just… he’s gone and I can’t even track his damn phone. Wherever he is, it’s turned off.”

“The angel warding on your ribs prevents me from locating him, Dean. I’m sorry.” Castiel nodded. “Give me a moment.”

“What…” Dean trailed off as the angel vanished and threw a punch at the wall in his frustration. A second later, Castiel was back and actually looked a little concerned. “Where the hell’d you go?”

“The library to see if I could find any trace of demonic activity.” Castiel moved into the room and looked at the pile of research on the little table. “What are you hunting here?”

“We don’t know,” Dean said angrily. “That’s what we were trying to figure out at the damn library. Whatever the hell it is, it’s gutting its victims.” He shuddered at the thought that Sam could be facing that fate and shook his head. “It’s always men. They’re all found the day after they go missing…well, what’s left of them. It’s not, you know, eating them or anything.”

“This is most confusing.” Castiel sat at the table and began to go through the research in earnest. “I do not believe in coincidence. You are in town searching for something that takes and murders young men and Sam has gone missing. We must find this thing you’re searching for, if nothing else to eliminate it as a possible cause.”

Dean wanted to yell that they didn’t have time for that, but Castiel was right. “What about Lucifer? Could he have found us? Taken Sam? Or one of his pet demons?”

“There was no sign of demonic activity or any other supernatural activity at the library.” Castiel shook his head and pulled out a collection of notes in Sam’s neat handwriting. “Something else took him.”

“If it’s this thing…” Dean swallowed hard and slapped a hand on the table. “Cas, they don’t last a whole day. He’s running out of time.”

“We will find him, Dean.” Castiel said firmly and put his attention back on Sam’s notes.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Sam’s scream echoed in his own ears and he whimpered as the pain momentarily abated. He opened his eyes and watched Clair lean back to look at him with that damn smile on her blood-spattered face. Sam’s blood spotted her pale skin like freckles and the front of her blouse was saturated with it. “S-stop. Please… please, stop.” He knew now that their hunt wasn’t for any supernatural creature; it was for a very human, very insane serial killer… it was for Claire.

“You’re not finished yet, Sam.” Claire waved her bloody knife playfully at him and bent back over his stomach. She looked down at the wide, long slice she had opened in his stomach and gently pushed the fingers of her left hand inside him. His blood warmed her cool skin and his screams were music in her ears as she wrapped her hand around things inside him and pulled. She tugged loops of his intestines out of his abdominal cavity and held them up so they glistened red in the light. “You see, Sam? See how beautiful you are on the inside?”

Sam couldn’t help but look on in horror as she draped his own innards over his chest and shoved her hand back inside him. “NO!” he screamed. His voice was beginning to break as agony unlike anything he’d ever felt washed over him again. He felt things move that should never move and it was becoming difficult to breathe. He jolted in his bonds when he felt the unmistakable sensation of her fingers scraping against his lungs. “Stop! STOP! GOD! DEAN! CAS, PLEASE!”

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Castiel froze in mid-motion and felt a shudder of fear work through him.

“What? Cas, what?” Dean watched the angel with a frown.

“I heard him,” Castiel said softly. “Sam is… in great pain.”

“If you can hear him…”

“I cannot find him, Dean. The angel warding.” Castiel looked up and his eyes were fierce. “We are going to find him. I will not let this stand.” Though he had no way to locate Sam with his own powers, he had felt the brief flash of Sam’s terror… of his agony. It galvanized him and he was glad that Dean could not feel it. The knowledge of what Castiel had felt from his brother would cripple the older Winchester. “We will find him.”

“But in time?” Dean asked softly and stared down at the vivid pictures of the victims.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

“I can make it stop, Sam.”

Sam opened his eyes in surprise and found himself standing in a green meadow with Lucifer beside him. “No.”

“Sam. It’s not going to get better.” Lucifer smiled sadly at him and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You know I can’t find you. If you tell me where you are, you don’t even have to say yes, Sam. Just tell me where you are and I can come set you free. I can save you.”

Sam shook his head furiously even as he quaked in fear at what he would wake up to. “No. No, I won’t.”

“I give you my word. I want to help you, Sam. I wish you’d believe me. I care about you.” Lucifer shook his head, his voice soothing and filled with what sounded like genuine concern. “I can stop this woman from hurting you again if you just tell me where you are. Dean can’t save you this time.”

“You don’t know that,” Sam said furiously and jerked away from him. “Dean will find me. I’ll be fine.”

“Oh, Sam.” Lucifer put a hand to Sam’s face in a caring gesture that made Sam cold with fear. “You’re already dead, but I keep my promises.”

“What…” Sam slammed his eyes closed as he felt himself falling and jerked awake with a gasp to find himself still tied down to the floor and staring up at the paneled ceiling above him. “No.”

“Oh, my God,” Claire’s voice drifted through the room. She walked back over to Sam and dropped to her knees beside him in shock. She looked at his beautiful, blue-green eyes as they blinked up at her. “How…” She slid her hands around his blood-smeared face in wonder and then ran them down his miraculously healed chest, letting her nails scrape through the layers of tacky, drying blood. “God has given you back to me.”

“No. No. No,” Sam moaned and twitched as her fingers caressed over his stomach. “Stop. Please, let me go. Let me go.”

“Oh, Sam,” Claire unknowingly echoed Lucifer’s words and leaned down to stretch out along Sam’s side. She eased herself over his body and cradled his face in her hands while his blood soaked into her already saturated clothes. “You are so special. Look at you. God’s never given one of my toys back to me.”

Sam tried to turn his head away when she pressed her lips to his, but she held him firm. His whole body shuddered with terror as she finally leaned back to look at him again. “Claire, please.”

“Of course, my sweet, sweet, Sam.” Claire brushed his hair away from his face like a lover and leaned back to sit, straddling his thighs. “We’ll start again.”

“Oh, God. No, please, don’t. Please!” Sam begged as she picked up the still red blade from the floor and dragged the point down his sternum, leaving a red line of fresh blood behind. Tears ran from his eyes down his temples into his hair as he sobbed for breath through the pain and the hopelessness.

“I was going to set you free like the others,” Claire said as she pulled her blade across the twitching muscles of his stomach, making a new incision where the last had vanished. “I’m so glad I waited, so glad I decided to enjoy you just a little longer before I gave you back or I would have missed this miracle. Sam, you’re a miracle.” Her voice held a note of insanity as she cut him and then cut again within the first to slowly make it deeper and Sam’s beautiful cries once more filled the room.

Sam tried to writhe away from the knife and her fingers as they pressed into the new wounds. She spread his blood over his bare chest like a macabre finger painting and Sam threw his head back on a hoarse scream when the knife went still deeper. “DEAN!”

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

“What about this?” Dean slapped a finger into a point on the map they’d tacked to the wall hard enough to put a hole in it.

“I will check.”

Dean growled in frustration when Castiel vanished yet again, as he had so many times before in their search for Sam. The hours were creeping by and it had already been too many, too long. Dean looked at the clock between the beds that told him Sam had been missing for a day and a half. Too long. “God, Sammy. Please don’t be dead,” Dean whispered it miserably and leaned his head against the map and closed his eyes. “How the hell did I lose you like that?”

“It is not your fault, Dean.” Castiel said as he reappeared and watched Dean jerk in surprise.

“The hell it’s not.” Dean snarled and paced across the motel room. “No luck?”

“No. He was not there.” Castiel was becoming frustrated with his own inability to locate the youngest Winchester. Periodically he would feel a burst of fear and gut-wrenching agony from him, no doubt when Sam’s thoughts turned to him for help. It was a torment all its own, the knowing and the inability to do anything. There were days when Castiel missed his angelic grace at its full strength and the level of detachment it afforded him. The human emotions he was beginning to feel were confusing on a good day, but today… today they made him burn with helplessness and the need for vengeance.

“We keep looking.” Dean refused to accept that Sam was already dead. Until they showed him a damn body, he was going to operate under the assumption that his little brother was still out there waiting for Dean to save him, because that was his damn job. He was going to do it.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

“Stop… stop, Claire. Oh, God, stop,” Sam sobbed and his breath hitched in his chest. His entire body jerked as her hand and forearm were forced up into his chest through the gaping hole she’d made in his stomach. He could feel her fingers caressing things inside him while her face stared down at him and smiled.

“I can feel your heart, Sam.” Claire whispered it as her fingers brushed against Sam’s beating heart and caressed it. “It’s beautiful like you. Special, so special. Can you feel it, Sam?” She slid her fingers over the wildly beating muscle inside him and squeezed until his breath stuttered in his lungs. “Will you come back to me again, do you think?” She leaned forward and kissed him. “God has given you back to me so many times already. I think you will.”

Sam stared up at the ceiling with his mouth hanging open and no air left in his lungs to scream with. He had died and woken so many times now. He’d lost count. Each time, Lucifer was waiting for him, promising freedom and an end to the constant cycle of agony, and each time it became harder to say no. Only two things kept him strong enough to say no. First was the belief that on some level, he deserved this torment. He’d unleashed Lucifer on the world and there was no greater sin. More important was his need to not fail his brother again. He couldn’t let Dean down again. He couldn’t say yes and doom the world and Dean just to save himself the pain. He stared up at the ceiling past Claire’s shining eyes and sobbed breathless tears as the world went dark around him again and she squeezed his heart inside his chest.

He woke again with the word ‘no’ on his lips to find Claire stretched atop him again and waiting. Sam closed his eyes and cried, unable to stop the tears and no longer caring. It was too much; too much pain, too much despair.

“My beautiful, amazing Sam,” Claire breathed and kissed him softly. She sat up slowly and ran her hands over his neck and shoulders, down his chest and counted his ribs with her fingers while he cried and shivered beneath her hips. “God loves you and he loves me and he wants us to be together forever. Forever, Sam. I can play with you forever.”

Sam’s sobs only seemed to make her smile more widely as she picked the knife up again and pressed it to his lips before pulling it around his shoulders and chest almost playfully. He closed his eyes and gave himself over to it because he could do nothing else.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

“This has to be it.” Dean’s voice was hoarse with emotion. Thirty hours with Sam missing had not done good things for Dean’s calm. Worse was every time Castiel stopped and stared into space and a dark expression crossed his face. Dean knew it was because the angel was feeling something from his little brother, something the angel refused to explain to him... something bad. Even so, each time it happened was a confirmation for Dean that Sam was still alive, and he clung to that like a drowning man clinging to a piece of driftwood. He looked at the map again and latched a hand to Castiel’s elbow before he could vanish again. “I’m goin’ with you this time. This is it. I know it.”

“Dean…”

“No. I’m right, dammit.” Dean took his gun out with his free hand and nodded. They had eliminated every other possibility for a lair for this… whatever it was. There was nowhere else left to look and that wasn’t an option. It had to be right. “Let’s go.” He didn’t flinch when Castiel brought his hand up and touched his forehead. He staggered a moment later when the air shifted around him and he opened his eyes to see a building in front of them. It was an old, abandoned theater. A heavy padlock hung on the doors at the front, and Dean turned and strode for the alley beside it.

“Dean.”

“No. He’s here.” Dean couldn’t say why, but something inside him was screaming that Sam was here, that he was right and they needed to hurry. “Come on, dammit.” He headed down the alley and saw a door halfway down the building. The padlock had been cut from the door and hung halfway to the ground, and Dean felt the warmth of rage boil up inside him. “He’s here.”

Castiel walked at Dean’s back and slid his angel blade from his sleeve while Dean pushed the door open and stepped inside. They were still unsure what had taken Sam, but whatever it was, it would not last long against the two of them. Castiel’s only concern then was what Dean would do to the thing, what tortures he himself might visit upon it for whatever had been done to Sam, whatever had caused those pain-filled cries that had echoed through his mind.

Dean found a flight of stairs and a hall leading past them. He stopped and looked down the hall trying to decide. His decision was made for him when Sam’s agonized scream suddenly carried down the stairs. “Sammy,” Dean whispered and tore up the stairs at a run with the angel at his back. The stairs let onto another hall and at the end was a door with orange light glowing from beneath it. Dean threw caution to the wind and ran. “SAMMY!” He bellowed as they reached the door and he kicked it in. The sight that greeted them was enough to steal the air from Dean’s lungs for a moment and stop him in his tracks.

It was a big room with wood panels, lit with warm orange lights, and in the center of the antique, parquet floor laid his brother. Sam was tied down to the floor in an ‘x’ with a woman straddling his hips and a gore-covered knife in her hand. There was so much blood. So much that it spread out from Sam in a puddle like ten people had bled there rather than just his little brother, and the bitch sitting on top of him was covered in it like red body paint.

“She’s human, Dean.” Castiel whispered in shock. He felt the rage boiling off of his friend and moved before Dean could. He stalked across the wooden floor, putting himself between Dean and the woman and took a bruisingly firm hold of her arm as he dragged her away from Sam; a grip so hard he felt the woman’s bones grind together beneath his fingers and felt not an ounce of remorse.

“No! No! He’s mine! You can’t have him!” Claire screamed as she was dragged away. “You don’t understand! God gave him to me again and again! Sam’s mine! Sam!”

“You don’t get her the fuck away from me now, she’s dead,” Dean snarled it at the angel and went for his brother.

“I will be back in a moment.” Castiel glared down at the woman and vanished with her.

“Oh, God, Sammy.” Dean dropped to the floor beside him, heedless of the warm and cooling blood that soaked into his jeans. His brother was just as covered in blood as the woman had been. “Sam?” Dean wondered how he could possibly still be alive having lost so much. He reached out and put shaking fingers to Sam’s throat even as he looked at the long, open slice in his brother’s stomach and the matching cuts that ran up his chest and over one shoulder. “Come on, buddy. Don’t you do this to me. Sammy, please.” The air punched out of him when he felt the too fast, unsteady pulse beneath his fingers, and Dean leaned down to rest his forehead against Sam’s and took a little peace in the faint, warm puffs of air that brushed against his cheek.

“Dean.” Castiel reappeared and knelt on Sam’s other side. His eyes took in Sam’s shocking appearance and the frightening amount of blood along with Sam’s silence and came to a horrible realization. “We must get him out of here. Quickly.”

“Yeah.” Dean leaned back and put his gun away. “Get his hand and foot on that side.” He took out a knife and cut away the rope holding Sam’s left hand. He gritted his teeth at the torn flesh beneath the ropes, needing no further testament to how hard Sam had fought to get free. He uncoiled it from Sam’s wrist, releasing fresh blood to flow and pulled his arm gently down to his side. “Sammy?” He took Sam’s face in his hands and held him steady. “Come on, buddy. Look at me.”

“Not here, Dean. Wait.” Castiel cautioned as he freed Sam’s feet and then his other hand. “He shouldn’t still be here when he opens his eyes.”

Dean looked askance at the angel but nodded. “Hurry up, then.”

Castiel reached out and placed one hand on Dean’s head and other on Sam’s. He instantly transported them to their motel room and cursed his inability to heal Sam’s injuries as he once could.

Dean opened his eyes and breathed out in relief to see the familiar room. “Cas, grab a couple wet towels. Wanna clean this crap off him before we put him in the bed.” Blood was still leaking in rivulets down Sam’s chest and stomach to run into the dark brown carpet. “Sammy,” he said softly and watched his brother’s eyes twitch under closed lids. “Sammy, you’re safe. We got you out. You’re safe, man. Come on.”

“Dean.” Castiel handed a wet towel to him and knelt with his own. Together, they wiped the copious amounts of blood from Sam’s upper body. He left the open wounds to Dean’s ministrations.

“Really wish you had your healin’ mojo, Cas,” Dean said in a rough voice as he folded the towel and pressed it into the long cut on Sam’s stomach, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. He thanks whatever the hell might be listening that it was shallow; any deeper and they would have been cleaning Sam’s guts from that floor.

“As do I,” Castiel said seriously and leaned back once he’d cleaned what he could. “He is awake,” he observed as he looked at Sam. “He doesn’t think we’re real.” He could just hear the clamor of Sam’s surface thoughts.

“Dammit. Ok, let’s get him up and more comfortable.” Dean was grateful for Castiel’s help getting Sam’s long body up from the floor and onto the bed. Once Sam was settled, he turned to ask for the first aid kit and found Castiel already at his elbow, holding it out. “Thanks, Cas.” He set it down on the nightstand and looked up at the angel again. “Cas, where is she?”

Castiel nodded at the murderous tone in Dean’s voice and it made him happy to be able to give Dean what he needed. “I have sent her on to her just reward.”

“You smited the bitch?” Dean asked in surprise and then gave a grim smile when the angel met his eyes fiercely and nodded. “Good.”

“I must go, Dean.” Castiel looked down at Sam again and then met Dean’s worried gaze. “I… I fear that Lucifer has had a hand in his current state somehow. Go easy on him.”

“What…” Dean blew out an irritated breath when Castiel vanished. “Hate it when he does that.” With the angel gone, he turned his full attention on his brother. He looked at Sam’s face and could see the line of tension between his eyes. If Cas was right, Sam was awake and for some reason refusing to look at him. Dean picked up some gauze and the peroxide and put one of Sam’s hands in his lap to clean the deep abrasions on his wrist.

“Sammy, I know you’re in there. I know you can hear me. You’re safe, man. We’re back at the motel.” Dean spoke softly and calmly, trying to draw his brother back out from wherever he’d gone. “We found you in time.” He looked down at the wound in Sam’s stomach with a shudder. “Looks like we found you just in time, too. Any deeper and there’d a been two of you.” Sam gave a shudder at that and Dean stopped to watch him. “Sammy? Come on, dude. I need you to talk to me. It’s me. It’s Dean. I swear, Sam. You’re safe.” He couldn’t understand why Sam was hiding so hard inside his head. The damage was bad, yeah, but it wasn’t even life-threatening from what Dean could see. Of course, he frowned, that didn’t explain the massive amount of blood, and that told him he was missing something important.

Sam heard his brother’s voice again, the comforting, calm timbre of it, and wondered if Lucifer was trying something new, some new way to make him say yes or tell him where he was. He felt his brows draw together when he realized he could still feel pain. He never felt the pain in the dreams. Lucifer was so careful to try and make him feel safe there. The pain didn’t make any sense.

“That’s it, Sammy. I’m right here,” Dean set Sam’s bandaged wrist aside and took his brother’s face in his hands again to try and ground him as he saw the frown appear. “Open your eyes. Sam.”

Sam couldn’t ignore Dean’s voice, phantom of Lucifer or not, and he allowed his eyes to slowly crack open. Expecting to see Claire poised above him, the sight of Dean’s fearful eyes watching him was enough to make his breath stutter in his chest. “Dean.”

“Hey, hey. Easy.” Dean tightened his hold on Sam’s face when his brother began to sob for breath. “I got you, Sammy. It’s ok. You’re safe.” He was a little horrified when tears began to flow from Sam’s bright eyes, and he brushed them away with his thumbs. “Hey. Ok. Come on. It’s alright. You’re alright. It’s not even that bad, man.”

Sam shook his head and brought his hands up, stunned to find himself free, and took hold of Dean’s wrists in a strong, near-panicked grip. “No. No. You don’t… don’t understand. Oh, God.”

“Hey. Sammy. Breathe. Jesus, take a damn breath,” Dean’s own panic level was rising as Sam fell apart in front of him and started to hyperventilate. “Dude, you’re ok. I swear. Sam.”

“Killed me,” Sam sobbed and tightened his hold on his brother, not caring that he was leaving bruises behind in Dean’s skin.

“No, Sam.” Dean shook his head and looked into Sam’s terrified eyes. “Dude, you’re fine. She didn’t.”

“Over and over and over.” Sam closed his eyes and felt the horror flow through him yet again. “Lucifer…” He broke off and tried to catch his breath. “Said… he said…”

“What? Sam, what’d that bastard say?” Dean knew the devil had come to his brother in his dreams and wanted more than ever to find a way to gank the son of a bitch.

“Won’t let me die. He won’t let me die, Dean.” Sam’s eyes flew back open to meet the dawning horror in his big brother’s. “Every time… she killed me… he brought me b-back. Every time. Every…”

“Jesus,” Dean breathed and impulsively pulled Sam up until he could wrap his arms around him. “How…” Dean had to swallow hard and held on to his trembling brother. “Sammy, how many times?”

Sam shook his head against Dean’s shoulder and buried his face in the familiar smelling shirt. “I don’t… lost count. Too many. God, Dean.”

“Shh. Ok. Take it easy. I’ve got you.” Dean’s voice choked off in a storm of emotion and horror. So the devil wasn’t going to let his chosen vessel be killed before he could wear Sam to the prom. He closed his eyes and tightened his arms around Sam. How many times could you be gutted, die, and come back before you cracked? Dean was afraid he knew the answer to that. He had far too many memories from his time in hell of just that; too many seething, red memories of seeing his own insides on the outside over and over, and each time brought back for them to do it again.

“Fuck, Sammy.” Dean said miserably and held Sam while he sobbed into Dean’s shoulder. “You were never supposed to know what hell’s like, man. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”  
  
“He… he told me…he’d make it stop… save me. I didn’t even have to say yes. Jus’… jus’ tell him where I was.”  
  
Dean stiffened at that and tightened his grip on his little brother. He knew that part of it too – the promise of freedom from pain, if only… “You said no,” he murmured, and Sam gave a tiny nod.

“Didn’ wanna…c’dn’t let you down, not again.”

The words were barely a whisper, but Dean heard and felt something catch in his own chest. “Sam…” There were no words. Dean felt tears forming in his own eyes at the thought that the little brother he had practically raised and nursed through all sorts of hurts had let himself be put through hell rather than betray Dean’s trust again. “You didn’t, Sam….you didn’t.”   
  
Sam couldn’t stop the sobs or the tears or the broken breaths that punched out of him as Dean held him. He couldn’t be bothered to feel ridiculous for needing the comfort of his big brother’s arms in a way he hadn’t since he was a child. It was all too much just then, and the relief of finally being free and safe… he felt his breaths become even more erratic.

“Sammy, slow it down.” Dean slid a hand to the back of his brother’s neck and grimaced as he felt the layer of congealing blood still there. It all made horrifying sense now, all the blood he’d seen in that room, on her and on Sam. It _was_ all Sam’s from the numerous times she had gutted him. “Sam.” Dean squeezed his brother’s neck and tried to ease him back, but Sam had a death grip in his shirt at his back. “You’re gonna pass out, man. Sammy…” Dean sighed and simply held him more tightly. “Go on, dude. You’ve earned it.” He stopped trying to calm him and let Sam put himself out. He felt his little brother go limp in his arms, felt Sam’s hands slowly unclench and fall away from his back as his frantic breathing began to slow. Dean carefully eased him forward and back to the bed.

“You’re ok, Sammy,” Dean whispered and brushed his brother’s blood-clumped hair off his face. “I got you. You’re safe. You just… you sleep.” Dean’s voice choked up and he rested a hand over Sam’s heart to feel it beating. “Gonna get you cleaned up and stitched up. Feel like a new man when you wake up, dude.” He gave a watery laugh and dropped his head. “Fuck.”

An hour later, Dean pulled the blanket from his own bed and draped it over Sam. He’d stripped the ruined jeans from him and done his best to clean his brother with a wet towel, unwilling to even try carrying him into a bath in his condition, both physical and emotional. Dean gave the bandaged wounds on his stomach and chest a last glance before pulling the blanket up to Sam’s shoulders and patting it into place.

“I’m sorry, Sammy.” Dean sat beside him again and rested a hand on Sam’s neck, needing the comfort for himself. “I screwed up. Should’a been watchin’ you better. God.” He blew out a breath in disgust with himself. “Next case is gonna be something easy, dude. We need to put the trainin’ wheels back on this bitch, because this…” Dean squeezed the side of his brother’s neck and stared down at the unconscious man, seeing only the child he used to be, “… this never should have happened.”

“It was not your fault, Dean.”

“Jesus, Cas!” Dean exclaimed and jolted to his feet with the angel’s voice behind him. “Wear a damn bell or something!”

“I’m sorry.” Castiel moved to get a look at Sam. “How is he?”

Dean scrubbed his hands through his hair and reined in his temper. “She kept killin’ him, and Lucifer, that son of a bitch, kept bringing him back. He won’t let him die.” He gave a mirthless laugh. “Suppose I oughta thank the bastard for that, huh? Saved his life when I couldn’t.”

“Dean…”

“No, this is on me. I let my guard down and…” Dean threw his hands out and sat next to Sam again. “Thanks for helping me, Cas.”

“Of course, Dean.” Castiel wished he could say something to take the weight of guilt from Dean, but he knew there was nothing. When it came to Sam in danger, Dean’s ability for self-castigation knew few bounds and less reason. “I will check on you again in the morning.”

“Yeah.” Dean nodded and looked over. “Hey, uh… could you, you know, go tell Bobby about this? I just… I can’t right now.”

Castiel nodded and managed a small smile. “Of course.”

Dean wasn’t surprised when the angel vanished and gave a small smile himself for the minor heart attack Bobby was no doubt having right this moment with Castiel’s trademark arrival. He turned back to his brother and put a smile on his face when he saw Sam’s eyes moving. “Sammy? You comin’ back now?”

Sam opened his eyes slowly and let the sight of Dean over him rather than Claire settle his frayednerves. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself, man. How are you?” Dean asked, brow furrowed in concern and caught the hand Sam brought up to pull the blanket down. “Leave it. I patched you up while you were out. How do you feel?”

Sam shook his head and clasped his hand around Dean’s forearm instead. “I, uh… I dunno. Ask me tomorrow.”

Dean nodded. The answer didn’t surprise him. “You should get some more sleep. You need it.”

“Yeah.” Sam looked up at his brother and felt a fond smile curving his face. “You look like hell. Think you need sleep more than me.”

“I always look awesome.”

Sam smiled again, comforted by the familiar exchange. The terror of what he’d experienced was still there, still trying to stutter his breathing and stop his heart, but he was safe now. Dean had found him, andthat gave him the strength to not let it overwhelm him yet again. “Dean… thanks.”

“For what?” Dean shrugged dismissively and set Sam’s hand down with a pat as he stood. “Pullin’ your bacon outta the fire is what I do.”

Sam nodded and felt his eyes welling with tears. He closed them quickly and fought to keep them from falling. “Just… thanks.”

“Sleep, Sammy.” Dean rolled onto his own bed and looked over at his brother. “I’m right here. Gonna be right here all night.”

Sam nodded again, unable to speak without crying and rolled so he was on his side and facing his brother’s bed. It was more comforting than he could ever put into words; his big brother’s steady presence and the sure knowledge that nothing was going to get to him without going through Dean first… not tonight, at least. Sleep started to roll through him and Sam hoped and prayed that this time Lucifer would leave him be and just let him rest. He wrapped the safety of Dean’s presence around him like an invisible protection and sank gratefully into exhausted sleep.

Dean watched Sam’s breathing even out slowly and let himself sink back against the wall as the magnitude of the last two days slammed down on him. “Never again,” he said in a bare whisper. “I promise, Sammy. Never. Again.”

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

_The End._


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